


The Devil That Repents

by torterafan



Series: The World of Drasali [2]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Gods, Half-orc, Multi, Orcs, Tieflings, Violence, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-29 06:50:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18773446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torterafan/pseuds/torterafan
Summary: An ongoing story. A young tiefling from a quaint town signs up for the military.





	The Devil That Repents

     I like to tell people my story, it’s not a particularly happy story but it gets me free drinks at taverns. Most people don’t know much about the war going on along our eastern border, other than its righteous and just nature. I don’t think people care that we’re slaughtering our neighbors like cattle. The only hear the tales, similar to mine, of our men being cut up and the survivors suffering. They’re only interested in the stories that make them the victim, or the good guy, or the justified and holy warriors protecting the innocent at any cost. There’s nothing holy about war. The real reason men cling to their gods and their idols after war is because it’s about as far from holy as any damned experience is.  
       
     It’s easy though, for them to dismiss my message. Dark red skin, thick ram horns, the tail of the devil himself, these traits make it especially easy. The only earthly thing about my appearance might just be my hair. Even then I’ve heard it called the black soot of hell, so who knows. They recognize the emblem on every fucking article of clothing I own though.   
  
     Most people wonder how a demon who found a god can be so unbearably cynical. Normally after correcting them about what constitutes a demon, and what constitutes the nature of my being, I give them another sardonic answer and they dismiss me. One time I didn’t, though, I gave a straight answer. I don’t like delving into it normally. I cut my story off with a bullshit summary of surviving the battle and slowly recovering. There was this one guy, however, he really seemed interested in my story. He didn’t look at me with contempt, he seemed genuinely interested. It might have been because we shared a camaraderie only outcasts of monstrous blood can share, but I could tell he was a survivor too. He had the grizzled look of a battle-hardened warrior. Most people I met with Orc-blood had that look, but his was earned.   
  
     It took a few weeks, but we shared our stories with one another. I wonder now where he went. He was Captain Talik of the City Watch, a short title as far as those who have such titles go, but a great guy. I’ve found myself at a moment in my life with no direction other than here, in this library, with nothing from the god who loves to torment me with whispers, or a drive to complete something. With the help of one of the keepers here, I might read up on where I’m supposed to go soon. I never was one for travel, but sometimes duty calls.


End file.
